He continued in this state, between
life and death, until the Thursday next, the day on which he asserted
that he would die--and, on that morning, he was evidently sinking fast.
Towards noon, his breathing became much oppressed and irregular, and he
was evidently dying; the rattle in his throat commenced; and I watched
at his bedside, waiting for his last gasp, when he again opened his
eyes, and beckoning me, with an effort, to put my head close to him to
hear what he had to say, he contrived, in a sort of gurgling whisper,
and with much difficulty, to utter--"Peter, I'm going now--not that the
rattle--in my throat--is a sign of death: for I once knew a man--to
_live_ with--_the rattle in his throat_--for _six weeks_." He fell back
and expired, having, perhaps, at his last gasp, told the greatest lie of
his whole life.
Thus died this most extraordinary character, who, in most other points,
commanded respect: he was a kind man and a good officer; but from the
idiosyncrasy of his disposition, whether from habit or from nature,
could not speak the truth. I say from _nature_, because I have witnessed
the vice of stealing equally strong, and never to be eradicated. It was
in a young messmate of good family, and who was supplied with money to
almost any extent: he was one of the most generous, open-hearted lads
that I ever knew; he would offer his purse, or the contents of his
chest, to any of his messmates, and, at the same time, would steal
everything that he could lay his hands upon.
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